Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 125

THE drive back from the Cole’s mansion was quiet. Not the comfortable type of quiet, but the kind that lingered after a storm had just passed.

Amelia kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. The afternoon sun filtered through the windshield, casting soft golden reflections across her face.

Beside her, Charles shifted in his seat, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had just happened.

Finally, he spoke.

“I still can’t believe she actually did that.”

Amelia didn’t look at him.

“Hmm?”

“Shantel,” he clarified, exhaling sharply. “Going all the way to Adrian’s mansion. Walking in there like she owned the place. Just to prove a point.”

Amelia shook her head slowly.

“Some people don’t know when to stop.”

Charles leaned back against the seat.

“It’s crazy.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“I mean… out of all the things she could have done, she chose the worst possible one.”

Amelia finally glanced at him briefly before returning her eyes to the road.

“That is because desperation clouds judgment.”

Charles nodded slowly.

“You are right.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke again. The sound of the engine and the faint hum of passing cars filled the silence.

Then Charles sighed.

“But still… walking into Adrian’s house like that.” He shook his head again. “I never imagined she could go that far.”

Amelia said nothing this time. She only tightened her grip on the wheel slightly.

Soon, they turned into her street. A few minutes later, Amelia pulled into the driveway of her house and parked the car smoothly.

The engine died, leaving them in sudden stillness and they both stepped out of the car.

Amelia closed the door and headed toward the house without hesitation. But before she could reach the front steps, Charles gently caught her arm.

“Hey babe, wait,” he said softly. “Not so fast, please.”

Amelia stopped and turned back to him with a tired sigh.

“What is it, Charles?”

He chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“Come on, love. Are we still at loggerheads?” he asked. “Are we still fighting?”

Amelia scoffed.

“No, we aren’t.”

She folded her arms.

“So what is it? You should be heading home. The whole issue is over now, I guess.”

Charles’ face fell slightly.

“Come on, baby,” he pleaded gently. “Stop this.”

He stepped closer to her.

“I want us back together.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“We are together, aren’t we?”

“Not like before,” he said quickly. “Not the way we used to be before you left for The Bahamas.”

His voice softened.

“Please, babe… you know what I’m talking about.”

He took her left hand carefully and planted a kiss on the back of her palm.

Amelia watched him quietly.

Then she spoke.

“As long as you have no skeleton in your cupboard, Charles, then we are good.”

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